Oh my goodness we are close to the finish line!
Meanwhile, I’ve been busy writing my thesis on pickles and Midnight’s Children, aptly titled, Midnight’s Pickles. Pickle-shaped noses aside, this section was a particularly rich source of literary dill.
Twenty-six pickle-jars stand gravely on a shelf; twenty-six special blends, each with its identifying label, neatly inscribed with familiar phrases: “Movements Performed by Pepperpots,” for instance, or “Alpha and Omega,” or “Commander Sabarmati’s Baton.” Twenty-six rattle eloquently when local trains go yellow and browning past; on my desk, five empty jars tinkle urgently, reminding me of my uncompleted task. But now I cannot linger over empty pickle-jars; the night is for words, and green chutney must wait its turn.
We’ve all been eating a lot of pickles, these last several weeks, it’s true. And you know, three jars of pickles is one thing. But twenty-six jars is something else entirely. With five to go.
Only… there are thirty chapters in this book, not thirty-one. I counted three times.
Another mystery to be solved?
And then there’s this:
Of my last miserable contact with the brutal intimacies of family life, only fragments remain; however since it all must be set down and subsequently pickled, I shall attempt to piece together an account.
I loved that. Writing as pickling. Experience plus vinegar, salt, sugar, dill, garlic, onion, and time.
Now maybe it’s just the waft of all this pickle-broth that’s clouded my thinking, but it feels like this could be a good time to catch our breath before we wrap, and perhaps give a few folks a little time to catch up as well.
All to say: Let’s meet at the end of the section entitled “The Wedding” (aka page 484 in the Random House paperback), where someone “really had it in for” someone. (A mere 20 pages hence, as we prepare for the grand finale!)
And this? This is the place for comments on section 3.5.
And also: “castellated” is defined by Merriam-Webster as “having battlements like a castle.” Which seems a little lazy as word-creation goes. But, ok.
As well as: “fissiparous(ness)”; Merriam-Webster: “tending to break or split up into parts” (ness).
Just listened to the (fairly) new Cat Stevens’ “Tea for the Tillerman 2.” Oh My. “Hard Headed Woman” could fit so many MC characters. And his new rendition of “Wild World,” with a different vibe, made me think of the Magician’s Ghetto. Somehow , I can’t get the contortionist triplets out of my head. I can’t wait to finish this thing, but still,,,,
I was really surprised at how the sad Pavarti story-line ended after all of that build-up.
The Gandhi history was very interesting but I makes me want to read a real historical account to see what really happened. Also what her hair looked like.
The fact that the child was the real child of his grandparents was a nice twist. Not worth the build-up but a nice twist.
Notable appearance of Japanese tourists who chose to wear face masks to be polite about spreading germs. If only more Americans had more inner-Japanese tourist.
I also underlined the sentence referring to the Japanese tourists because it just seemed too timely to not mention here!
I was curious about Indira’s hair as well! She and Susan Sontag had a similar look going on.
Improbably, I’m somehow a few pages ahead of the prescribed section this week, so I’ll keep my trap shut until next week! Though, don’t think much will be spoiled if I say that reading the line “do we not get the leaders we deserve?” left me feeling a bit depressed.
I thought the hair was literary license, but google revealed nope!
Several previous posts have noted SR’s unflattering treatment of women, and in this section we have his litany of “too much women.” I confess his digression into the Hindu pantheon left me bewildered. Fortunately, I had a book handy which explained (something the rest of you may already know) that Indian religion is more like a large family of related religions, with a number of different practices, one being Tantra. “Tantra recognizes the fundamental conjunction of the female and male in which the female energy, Shakti, is often paramount.” The male gods have various consorts, “but they are all manifestations of the one Shakti, the source of cosmic creation and energy.” (The Message & The Book: Sacred Texts of the World’s Religions,” John Bowker. Yale University Press, 2011.
Anyone else think the book might be a heavily embroidered allegory? Clearly, Saleem is The Face of India, particularly of the first generation of a united, independent India — but who are all the many many other players supposed to represent? Can’t figure it out…so perhaps it’s not an allegory after all.
According to the somewhat simplistic “Literary Terms” website, an allegory is
“…a story within a story. It has a “surface story” and another story hidden underneath. For example, the surface story might be about two neighbors throwing rocks at each other’s homes, but the hidden story would be about war between countries. Some allegories are very subtle, while others (like the rock-throwing example) can be more obvious.
In most allegories, the hidden story has something to do with politics, religion, or morality — complex subjects that are difficult to understand directly. Many authors find it easier to think through these issues by translating them into allegories, which are easier to understand (and more fun to read) than dense philosophical arguments.”
I agree with Noodle that I think this book is trying to be an allegory (love the “heavily embroidered” description). But here’s the rub: Midnight’s Children is not necessarily “easier to understand (and more fun to read) than dense philosophical arguments.” Trying to decipher this embroidery each week leaves me exhausted. Bring on the dense philosophical arguments any time.
I liked the bit about how the one thing up with which the ghetto’s magicians would not put was real magic. In real life magicians are pragmatists, technicians, scientists even, forever at odds with mystics who would muddy the waters.
I refer you to the life of the just deceased James “The Amazing” Randi, a professional magician who “made it his mission to bring the world of scientific rationalism to laypeople,” says the NYT.
“What roiled his blood, and was the driving impetus of his existence, Mr. Randi often said, was pseudoscience, in all its immoral irrationality.”
“People who are stealing money from the public, cheating them and misinforming them — that’s the kind of thing that I’ve been fighting all my life…. Magicians are the most honest people in the world: They tell you they’re going to fool you, and then they do it.”
Enjoyed this perspective – thanks, So-calked Bilk!
I imagine that as a white American dude with little background in Indian history/culture prior to this book, I am only getting a small percentage of what Rushdie has been up to thruout this book. I’ve certainly learned a lot, having gone down many Internet rabbit holes, and I continue to enjoy (mostly) the moment-to-moment reading experience. But I do get the feeling that my understanding, especially on a first reading, is only superficial at best. So I’m grateful for any time he throws out a dung joke to keep the rabble like me engaged.
Agree, I also think that I have been missing 80% of the references in the book. But I guess that’s what reading classics is a bit about: you know you can revisit them and you will always find new levels.
This is not very deep, but, is anyone else surprised at how nicknames that sound negative turn out to be used in a positive way? See “the monkey” or “the witch” versus “the widow”.
I may be the last one across the finish line, but I. will. make. it.
I believe in you! 🙂
Just finished this week’s portion — post to come tomorrow….!
“Beginning again, as the buddha, I lay with a latrine-cleaner and was subjected to electrified urinals as a result”. Ouch! If you’ve ever hotwired a shrub to keep your neighbor’s dog from urinating on it, this image makes you want to cross your legs!
“There is nothing like a War for the reinvention of lives…” How very true.
I am late to the party of comments again this week, so I’ve tried to select different passages than my fellow meanderers.
Add another to the group who noted the sentence about the mask-wearing Japanese tourists, which made sense given how many other passages in the book have seemed uncannily current. Also this one about Saleem’s son: “He was the child of a father who was not his father; but also the child of a time which damaged reality so badly that nobody ever managed to put it together again.”
I have to say, the way SR wound his way to revealing the identity of the widow who is the Widow made me shiver a little. It felt like that horror movie moment when the killer is calling from inside the house. Which is line with the whole idea of Saleem being the Face of India. Curious to see how it all comes together/cracks apart in the end.
Sleep deprivation hitting hard (why is the third kid the worst sleeper of them all?) so I can’t think of anything even remotely substantive to share here. I did finish on time, though, and can smell the finish line…do I detect a waft of pickles?
Thanks to Cecil for leaving the thread open to stragglers. Not much to say this time. Must EVERYONE be born on the stroke of midnight and with a godlike physical anomaly? Everyone????
Seems my late sprint leaves me always commenting last (and never best!), so: This sure caught my eye (pg 482): “…but also the child of a time which damaged reality so badly that nobody ever managed to put it together again;…”